


More Human Than

by eerian_sadow



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-27
Updated: 2007-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prophecy fulfillment, though not in a way anyone was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as part of my aborted 100 themes challenge on deviantArt for theme #10: Breathe Again. Written in late 2007 or early 2008, it was heavily influence by a friend of mine who has a great mind for details and how they can be implemented into fic. It does ignore some of the canon established in the final season of Angel: The series and all of the comic books, though.

When it started, the only thing he was aware of was the pain.

 _It hurts. Oh, gods, it_ hurts _. It hurts so much. **Ohgodsithurtsmakeitstop!**_

For a while, the pain made him forget everything. Made him forget why he had wanted this so much. Made him forget why he had fought so hard for it. Made him forget the _goddamned prize at the end_. It hurt so much, it made him forget that he wanted to live.

Dimly, he was aware of exactly what was happening, he was being given the humanity that the damn prophecy had promised, but the pain was so blinding that he couldn’t enjoy it. He was, in fact, beginning to think that the Powers That Be could keep it.

He was sure that regaining life wasn’t supposed to feel like punishment. But this felt like the torments of hell all piled on top of one another. It hurt more that gaining the soul, more than losing the soul, more than putting it back again. It hurt more than burning “alive,” more than being beaten so badly that he was in danger of turning to dust. It hurt more than starving, more than Druscilla’s holy water and tortures.

It hurt more than loving Buffy and not being able to have her.

He screamed, having enough control over his body to do at least that much. And, blessedly, when he drew in breath to scream again, he realized it was over.

Then he realized he was _breathing._

He could smell the rot and decay in the ally where it had happened and it was revolting—stomach turning—rather than mildly annoying as it had been before. He could taste the pollution of the air and feel its grit coat his tongue in a layer that wouldn’t come off short of finding a cleaner place to live than LA. He could hear police sirens, _faintly_ , behind the sounds of traffic on the street and the lumbering air conditioner behind him.

His body ached in more ways than he could count, but he was _alive_. Breath, pulse, nasty taste in his mouth, everything that came with being human.

As he staggered to his feet and locked eyes with the vampire at the end of the alley, he realized just what he had gained.


	2. Everything Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prophecy is fulfilled for Angel, leaving Spike to wonder what's left for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written and posted to my deviantArt page as both a followup to More Human Than and as a fill for theme #58 (Kick in the head) of my aborted 100 themes challenge.

It all came without a warning. Angel showing up on his doorstep demanding a patrol partner was the beginning of something much deeper.

They hadn’t even left the alley where he’d taken to keeping a run down apartment before they were attacked. Their opponents: a group of young vampire toughs who didn’t seem to understand the importance of the fact that they were on Spike’s turf.

Really, he got no respect anymore. Not since he’d met the Slayer.

They fought off the vamps with no problems; the young ones were no challenge anymore—not like they were back when there were still master vampires to teach them. It was all too easy, and he was almost ashamed to be the same species of demon.

The darker Powers That Be just seemed to have run out of challenges for the moment.

He was across the alley from his grandsire when Angel started screaming. Over the top of the garbage and pollution in the air he could smell magik. The alley hummed with the feel and smell of some big mojo, and despite Angel’s apparent distress, he found himself thinking of Willow Rosenberg.

Maybe he should just go join Buffy in Italy after all. No matter how angry with them she might have been, he knew that she would always let him come back and join the team. She knew how far she could trust him.

His attention was snapped back to Angel when the other stopped screaming. His eyes went wide when he realized the scream had turned into ragged panting.

As the magik in the alley faded, he could smell Angel’s fear and hear his heartbeat as clearly as any other human’s.

The prophecy had been meant for that self-righteous, angsty bastard.

He didn’t know if he should be angry or disappointed. As he looked into Angel’s eyes, he wondered what the transformed human felt.

Hearing something behind him, he turned away from Angel to see another vampire approaching them in game face. Before the other could open his mouth to make some kind of remark, Spike threw his stake. The younger vampire collapsed in a cloud of dust.

He turned back to Angel, who was still lying on the dirty pavement. “I’m not saving your ass every time you get in over your head.”

“I know that.”

“I’ll fight you for her.” He had no idea why he was brining the Slayer into this now, but he was.

“I know that, too.”

Not sure why he was doing it, he reached down and helped the human to his feet. He still wasn’t sure how he felt, but he knew how desperately Angel had wanted this.

“So, Spike, you want to go to Italy? Again?” Angel’s face was set in its serious mask.

He stayed silent for a long moment, trying to gather his thoughts before he made himself sound like a complete idiot. “This Shanshu thing was always about Buffy, wasn’t it? It was never about you and me.”

Angel just looked at him.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to play nice.”

Angel smiled at him and they walked down the alley, awkwardness averted by the shock that would eventually wear off.

“And for God’s sake, take a shower before we leave. You smell like that slimy black thing we killed last week.”

They knew it wouldn’t last past reuniting with Buffy, but for a while longer, two men who had know each other for over a century could pretend nothing had changed between them.


End file.
